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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29642292">The Thonnespreys</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/AinselGreenwood/pseuds/AinselGreenwood'>AinselGreenwood</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Elf Regency, F/M, Gay Male Character, Intrigue, Low Fantasy, M/M, Multi, Politics, Polyamory, Regency, Shenanigans for Political Machinations, Slow Burn, Trans Male Character, Unresolved Sexual Tension, not sorry, the slowest of burns</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 20:27:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>11,670</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29642292</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/AinselGreenwood/pseuds/AinselGreenwood</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After the death of their mother, the four Thonnesprey siblings must take their places in society. They must find a way to balance the expectations placed on them by society with their own hopes and desires while the elven Empire falls into revolution and civil war.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Ynaselle</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For various reasons, I'm using made up words instead of titles that most people know. So, here's a brief glossary.</p><p>Annymos - like a lieutenant. Four lieutenants serve under an eotha on a ship.<br/>Constellation - A religious title. There are 13 Constellations in the church, and their main role is to manage the education of priests.<br/>Eotha - a captain of a ship<br/>Rex/Rei - This is a title of a noble in an elven court. Rex is the inherited title, whereas Rei is a Rex's spouse.<br/>Titan - The ruler of a court; there are thirteen Titans in the Empire<br/>Elfa/Fae - Terms for spouses; the elfa is of a high peerage than the fae.<br/>Premier - A religious title. Think of it like a bishop.</p><p>Proper elven names include names for birth orders (First, Second, Third, etc) which include Lore, Vence, Fonn, Delim, Ephion, etc. These can be used as titles as well.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I believe, my dear, that you intend to announce an engagement by the end of the week,” the Rex Thonnesprey said to his fae, Rei Hypharius.</p>
<p>Rei Hypharius allowed herself a slight smile as she cast her gaze over the assembled elves. They were all crowded in the hall of the Thonnesprey ancestral home, Black Well. “The greatest families of Heliohart, gathered together in this hall, for one purpose. If the stars shine on our fortunes, perhaps we will announce two engagements.”</p>
<p>Rex Thonnesprey glanced to where his eldest child and heir sat with a glass of wine in hand as he utterly ignored the attentions of any of the gathered families’ eligible children. Rex Thonnesprey frowned and turned his attention back to his third child, and the honored celebrant, his daughter, Ynaselle. “At least one, anyway.”</p>
<p>“Privarron, don’t be so hard on Jaonos.” Rei Hypharius discreetly placed a hand over her elfa’s. “Allow him his own time. He is still young; he’s not yet two hundred. I know he will not disappoint you.”</p>
<p>Rex Thonnesprey would not argue. Their eldest child had been the one and only contention in their marriage. If they were going to argue, they were going to argue about Jaonos, for neither could agree on what was to be done with him. For the moment, he would not revive that old battle. It was meant to be Ynaselle’s night, her official debut into society. </p>
<p>Rei Hypharius had ruffled feathers in organizing this event. Such celebrations were often announcements of a betrothal rather than a debut. Matchmakers would normally arrange marriages for the children of noble families, selecting suitors from the correct strata of society so that even if the engagement hadn’t been formalized, it was practically inevitable. Multiple matchmakers had offered their services for both Jaonos and Ynaselle, but Rei Hypharius had refused them all. A bit of a radical, Rei Hypharius arranged the event herself to allow Ynaselle to choose her own mate. As the fae of Rex Thonnesprey, she had the freedom to be so revolutionary. She also knew she could rely on Ynaselle to select the correct suitor.</p>
<p>Ynaselle was surrounded by her suitors who floated in and out of her aura, insinuating themselves at her side and into her conversation. She accepted their attentions with the appropriate regal detachment while her dark eyes glittered with delight. A simple blue pearl tiara held the veil that demurely covered her straight black hair and cool porcelain skin. The gossamer robes of the same color formed a misty halo about her. Dressed simply, as was appropriate to display humility and innocence, she still shone like the pole star, the most striking woman in the hall.</p>
<p>“The young Bryravn pays our Ynaselle attention,” Rei Hypharius observed.</p>
<p>“Indeed. Do you think the Titan will allow such a union between our families?”</p>
<p>“Don’t be so vulgar.” Rei Hypharius tutted playfully. “No matchmakers would have been involved, should they choose to marry. There would be no design. All just happenstance.”</p>
<p>As he watched Bryravn Fonstus Lore bend to speak more intimately to Ynnaselle, Rex Thonnesprey wouldered if he could give up his favorite child to the young elf.</p>
<p>“You will forgive me, I hope, for insisting on ceremony,” the young Bryravn said, “but I am jealous of your attention.”</p>
<p>Ynaselle kept her face carefully still, but her heart pounded in her chest. Given their comparable standing in the Court, it would only be expected that she should give Bryravn audience. And Bryravn had every right to demand to be first in line of the suitors, as he was the most preeminent among them. Even so, Ynaselle felt oddly exhilarated.</p>
<p>The Thonnespreys and Bryravns had known each other for generations. She already knew the heir to the Bryravn family, as well as his siblings, as both their siblings had known each other. The night before, perhaps, she would have remembered that Bryravn had liked to catch frogs and name them after his siblings, how he would put the frogs in their places at dinner, much to his mother’s fury. Or how he had placed caterpillars in the younger children’s hair, insisting that they would grow into butterflies by morning. This night, as suitors, potential spouses, presented themselves to her, Bryravn seemed like a stranger. Before now, she had never considered him a potential spouse.</p>
<p>Ynaselle lifted her pointed chin and swept her gaze around the room meeting the eyes of the Rexes and Reis of the suitors’ families, giving herself time to gather her thoughts. She spotted her grandparents, the former Rex Thonnesprey and his fae, seated in a place of honor above her father and mother. They sat high above the crowd, distant but watching, like the stars themselves, nearly invisible in their heights. Ynaselle’s great grandparents would hear of the events, but they no longer held any ceremonial responsibilities. Her grandmother dipped her head in encouragement as Ynaselle watched her. Ynaselle’s heart swelled with confidence. She took a deep breath. “You do nothing for which you need forgiveness, Bryravn Fonstus Lore,” she said, intentionally using his formal name.</p>
<p>“Very kind, very proper,” he replied, a playful grin on his lips. His bright silver eyes sparkled as if he had a secret he was eager to share. Ynaselle, even as she tried to look at no one, couldn’t help but notice how handsome he had become. His expression, so open and easy, fit so naturally on his smooth features. He sat beside her and leaned back against the chair, at ease, while she sat rigidly in her own seat. “Thonnesprey Hypharius Fonn,” he said, his tone a gentle tease, “were it right and proper, I would send the rest of these fools away.”</p>
<p>“You do not care for etiquette,” Ynaselle replied.</p>
<p>“I prefer to be direct.”</p>
<p>Ynaselle suppressed a smile. “We must stand on ceremony.”</p>
<p>“So we must,” Bryravn said. He looked out over the other suitors to where the Rex sat. He bowed his head, respectfully, touching his lips with his fingertips. “I hope, then, I can depend that I shall have the first dance.”</p>
<p>“Of course.”</p>
<p>“Of course.” </p>
<p>The band played soft music, creating a tranquil atmosphere. They stood in an alcove built that amplified and reflected the music out into the hall. It was placed between two columns which merged into one leaping stag - the very Heliohart for which the Court was named. Around it, scenes from elven history and myth were carved directly into the marble and polished to a mirror finish so that even the walls caught and reflected the light cast by the chandeliers. All was white and bright, save the jet black floor.</p>
<p>“An odd feature,” Bryravn said, “to have an onyx floor in this hall. It weighs the room down.”</p>
<p>Ynaselle simply pointed to the ceiling. “It is to reflect the ceiling the way still water reflects the sky.”</p>
<p>Bryravn leaned forward in his chair to get a better look. The ceiling was also black, but embedded in it were bright gems, arranged into the sacred constellations.</p>
<p>“Rammas,” Bryravn said, “the stars under which I was born. And Aequallus. Your stars, I believe.”</p>
<p>Ynaselle nodded, heat rising in her cheeks. Bryravn had never paid so much attention to her before. She was grateful for the veil.</p>
<p>“What a pious trick.” Bryravn laughed, and Ynaselle felt a thrill run up her back. “How clever. I should like to see the full effect, when the hall isn’t so crowded, if you will show it to me.”</p>
<p>“If you wish.”</p>
<p>“I do.”</p>
<p>Ynaselle met his gaze through the shade of the veil and saw more than just laughter in his eyes. For a moment, she couldn’t catch her breath. </p>
<p>“You are so kind to indulge me,” he said.</p>
<p>Ynaselle could hardly hear the band over the pounding of her heart, but she could see the crowd shifting with the change in music. It was time for the dancing to start.</p>
<p>Bryravn held his hand out to her. Ynaselle’s hand shook ever so slightly as she placed it in his. His hand was warm and firm, and she was giddy at the touch. The crowd parted for them as Bryravn as he led her to the center of the dance floor. The crowd closed around them, surrounding them as planets circle a sun. Bryravn placed a hand at her waist and pulled her close. She was certain he must feel the fluttering of her heart wherever they touched. This close, she could smell the scent of his perfume - orange blossom, unusual and lively. It suited him.</p>
<p>She looked into his eyes, and he smiled again. He was so open, so free with his pleasure. She smiled back, feeling her own pleasure filling her chest with warmth. He nodded his head, catching the beat as couples formed around them. To Ynaselle, they were hardly more than wind. Then the music started with gusto, and she was swept up in the dance.</p>
<p>“You have never, I think, been introduced at Court?” Bryravn asked. Couples spun around them like leaves in autumn.</p>
<p>It took Ynaselle a moment to understand. She swallowed, and shook her head. She focused on the steps to the dance to clear her mind.</p>
<p>“No. But, you have been to the capitol?”</p>
<p>To Ynaselle’s surprise, it took an effort to control her voice. “Of course,” she managed.</p>
<p>“Of course,” Bryravn replied. “I should like to show it to you, if you will further indulge me. Not just the few places your father has allowed, but all of it. I should like to show you the Court.”</p>
<p>As the third child, Ynaselle had only entered the Court once, upon her formal introduction to the Titan, in order to say her oaths. It was a private place where only the highest ranking in the land were allowed. To be shown it, Ynaselle realized, she would have to be married to a rex, which Bryravn would be one day.</p>
<p>Ynaselle looked away, a wave of anxiety washing over her. “Too much, Lore.”</p>
<p>Bryravn chuckled. “Perhaps now I do have something for which I must beg your forgiveness, and you must give it to me, for I am a selfish creature, and I have always gotten my way. Say you will forgive me.”</p>
<p>“You shouldn’t say such things,” Ynaselle said. “To speak so freely.”</p>
<p>“Say you will forgive me, and I shall be chastised. I shall be right and proper, if only you will forgive me.”</p>
<p>Ynaselle looked up to Bryravn, who now wore such a comically sad face that Ynaselle nearly laughed aloud. “I do not think you can be chastised, but I will forgive you, Bryravn Fonstus Lore.”</p>
<p>“You are the soul of kindness,” he said, “Thonnesprey Hypharius Fonn. And so, I must petition once more for indulgence.”</p>
<p>“What is it you would like?”</p>
<p>His hand at her back pressed more firmly, and he leaned closer to her so that she felt the heat of his breath on her cheek. “I want you to call me Lieranym.”</p>
<p>It took all of Ynaselle’s control not to blush. Though they had known each other for years, they had never used each other’s personal names. Personal names were for close friends, lovers, families. It was not unusual for elves to know each other for decades or longer without ever learning each other’s personal names. She felt her heart skip a moment, and a strange feeling of boldness surged in her. “If you wish,” she said, at last.</p>
<p>Lieranym smiled, showing white teeth. “I do wish it.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Vithian, stay with me,” Jaonos said as he caught his brother’s sleeve. Jaonos had already pressed their youngest brother, Othorion, into this service.</p>
<p>Vithian sighed heavily, but sat on Jaonos’ other side. He straightened the dull gray postulant robes of his profession. “You shan’t want me with you. Everyone skitters away as soon as they see me, and all they talk about is the weather.”</p>
<p>“That’s why I want you to sit with me,” Jaonos mumbled into his glass.</p>
<p>Vithian frowned at Jaonos, who ignored him, then turned to Othorion. “And how is your evening, Thori?”</p>
<p>Othorion gave Vithian an encouraging look before passing him a glass of wine. “I’m just glad that it seems to be going so well for Yna.”</p>
<p>“That badly?” Vithian asked. Jaonos snorted.</p>
<p>The three Thonnesprey brothers were hard to mistake. Each, like Ynaselle, shared the Thonnesprey look: straight black hair, long thin noses, and pale skin, though Othorion had gained some color from his time as an annymos in the Emperor’s navy. In temperment, they could not be more different. Jaonos was directionless and hedonistic, Vithian was ambitious and moody, and Othorion was obedient and taciturn. But, they each adored Ynaselle, their beloved only sister.</p>
<p>They sat together, watching Ynaselle on her dais as suitors approached her. Even as Bryravn sat comfortably beside her, as if the seat had been set there just for him. They each knew Ynaselle was the favorite child, even though she was the third, even though Jaonos was the heir. There was no resentment among them, though. All their lives, Ynaselle had nothing but love and support for her brothers. When no one else was there, there, always, was Ynaselle.</p>
<p>Jaonos, especially, remembered Ynaselle acting as his advocate whenever a fight sprung up between himself and their father. Which happened often enough, which was happening all the more often. “What will we do without her?” Jaonos asked.</p>
<p>“We will watch her ride off in a silver veil,” Vithian said quietly.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>Ynaselle wore a black veil instead.</p>
<p>She had been wearing deep mourning garb for ten years. A proper elf, especially an elf of such high breeding as Ynaselle, was expected to wear no jewelry or ornamentation but black robes and a full-length black veil that covered one head to toe. Ynaselle’s veil was embroidered with black glass beads that weighed it down and made her look like a dark wraith. She had only worn it once, for a great-aunt’s funeral years before. She had needed to purchase new gloves since then, for her old ones had been damaged by damp.</p>
<p>The gloves were lace, which was not practical for winter. She held them in her palms, the lace stiff against her flesh. She resented them. She resented them for being so finely made. She resented them for being so lovely. She resented them for what they represented: her mother’s death.</p>
<p>Ynaselle placed the gloves on her vanity, as she had done five years before.</p>
<p>Normally, she would not have been expected to wear the gloves, or the veil or black robes, for an decade. Her brothers had given it up after five years.</p>
<p>On that same morning five years after her mother’s death, Ynaselle had her maid carefully fold the veil, robe, and even the gloves, and place them in the ebony box where they would lie until another loved one passed. As she watched the box disappear into the closet, she said, “May I not see them again for many years.”</p>
<p>“Yes, your grace,” her maid, Miliia, agreed as she had set out the half-mourning garb. Half-mourning required simple gray robes and a simple veil that covered her hair, but not her face. Her maid secured the veil with moonstone pins, and Ynaselle placed a matching moonstone brooch at her throat. She looked pale, she had thought, like a ghost.</p>
<p>She had gone down to breakfast, and Jaonos, too, was dressed in the gray robes and veil of half-morning. As she entered the dining room, her father had looked up, but turned away immediately. “I cannot forget your mother so easily,” he had said, unshed tears breaking his voice. Ynaselle immediately put the deep mourning back on.</p>
<p>A decade. She wasn’t expected to wear any mourning any longer. Jaonos wouldn't wear it for another second. After five years, Vithian had taken up his gray postulants clothing, and even earlier, when called back to sea, Othorion donned his naval uniform. They had all put their grief away. Ynaselle wished to do so as well.</p>
<p>“Shall I fetch the mourning veil, your grace?” Millia asked as Ynaselle sat before her mirror. Sweet Millia, so kind and adoring. She never proffered her own opinion, which Ynaselle would have welcomed.</p>
<p>“No. The white robe averne, with the red sash.” Ynaselle watched Millia go to the closet to fetch it. She was pleased to see that Millia wore a warm smile as she went.</p>
<p>As Millia once more folded the deep mourning garb in its black box, Ynaselle chose a small jewelry box inlaid with abalone from the vanity drawer. She opened it to reveal a simple silver necklace set with garnets and matching ear cuffs. She lifted one of the cuffs to her ear and smiled. It felt odd, to smile after so long, as if she had just learned to do so. This set had been her mother’s. She had worn it on days they traveled.</p>
<p>Reverently, Ynaselle placed the cuff over one ear and examined her appearance in the mirror. Already, her complexion improved, looking far healthier than in the full decade before. She felt tears burning in her eyes, but she wouldn’t let them fall. She had cried all her tears already. As a child, she had watched her mother wearing this ear cuff and longed for the day it would be hers. Such a day had come too soon. It shouldn’t have come at all.</p>
<p>“It looks fetching on you, your grace,” Millia said from behind her. She held out the robe averne, strikingly white and flowing like mist. It was the perfect dress for spring.</p>
<p>“Thank you, Millia,” she said, blinking the tears away.</p>
<p>Ynaselle emerged from her room dressed for spring and wearing her mother’s traveling jewelry. Her hair was brushed and uncovered. Already, her heart felt lighter. She found Jaonos lounging in an ashwood chair across from her door. She saw he, too, had given up the mourning garb for a bright saffron robe and blue jewels. It seemed a bit too gay to Ynaselle, but her brother’s taste had always been more flamboyant than hers.</p>
<p>Jaonos puffed purple smoke from his cigarette and smirked at Ynaselle. She smelled the noxious blend that Leolen’s smoke shop made for him especially. She hated it, and he knew that. “My, Yna, I’d forgotten how pale you are.”</p>
<p>Ynaselle opened the window beside him to let the smoke out, then tapped off the lamp under the window. She gazed out over the garden beyond, where trees budded and flowers peeked their heads out. She breathed in the cool, sweet air that wafted in. “It’s spring out there,” she said. “The whole house is so dreary.”</p>
<p>“Our mother did pass away.”</p>
<p>Ynaselle glared at her brother, who grinned back to show he was teasing her.</p>
<p>“To the city, then?” he asked.</p>
<p>“Do you really think it will do Father good?”</p>
<p>Jaonos tamped out his cigarette on the sole of his shoe and tossed the butt out the window. “Oh, I think so. Myrdin is for it, and Father trusts his opinion.”</p>
<p>Physic Prognes was Jaonos’s dear friend, and also Rex Thonnesprey’s personal physician of many years. Rex Thonnesprey had taken his fae’s death very badly, and during the winter, his health had deteriorated precipitously. Physic Prognes had taken to living in Black Well to tend to Rex Thonnesprey whenever necessary. It had been Vithian who suggested taking their father to Heliohart in the spring in the hopes that the change of scenery might lift his spirits and improve his health. Physic Prognes heartily agreed.</p>
<p>Jaonos squeezed Ynaselle’s shoulder. “I think it will do us good, too. And we’ll see Vithian and Othorion again, and that must count as a good thing.”</p>
<p>Ynaselle nodded. Vithian had stayed in the Sequester since their mother’s death and would stay there until he took his orders, and Othorion practically never left his ship. They would have him until Rammas Eve, when he would be out to sea again. It had only been Jaonos and Ynaselle at Black Well with their father. It had been a difficult decade and seeing either of their brothers would be welcome.</p>
<p>“Besides, the Bryravns will probably be in town as well,” Jaonos said.</p>
<p>Ynaselle’s expression froze on her face, but she didn’t let it falter. After the ball, Lieranym had made it clear that he cared for her. Everyone had expected that he would propose any day. Her mother had even begun ordering cloth samples from drapers across the empire to choose wedding garments. Then her mother fell ill. Of course, Lieranym had to wait until Rei Hypharius recovered. When Rei Hypharius suddenly died, he certainly couldn’t propose until Ynaselle was out of mourning. But he hadn’t attempted to maintain their relationship. He didn’t write, he didn’t call. He visited only once to express his condolences to her father. She couldn’t pursue him, of course, while in mourning. She hadn’t seen him for the entire year.</p>
<p>Jaonos had traveled to the capitol, Heliohart, a number of times to take care of their father’s business, but he never brought her news of Lieranym. That did nothing to put her mind at ease, especially when Rei Erro, their father’s dear friend, always made comments about what the Bryravns were doing and with whom the Bryravn heir was seen. Ynaselle believed Rei Erro was trying, kindly, to warn her against any expectations of renewed affections from Lieranym.</p>
<p>“The coach must be waiting,” Ynaselle said, turning her gaze out the window. She didn't see anything, but she didn't want to let Jaonos see her disappointment and apprehension.</p>
<p>“And Father,” Jaonos said, offering Ynaselle his arm. She took it.</p>
<p>As they descended the grand staircase into the great hall, Ynaselle saw the constellations reflecting from the ceiling on the gleaming onyx floor. Jaonos was born under Tosothes, Vithian under Wassparin, and Othorion under Haestus, like their mother, while their father was born under Phensius. She saw Aequalis, her own stars, near the musicians’ alcove. At the base of the stairs was Rammas, Lieranym’s stars. She had promised to show it to Lieranym, though she never got the chance.</p>
<p>She took a deep breath, trying to fill her heavy heart with air. She wanted to see Vithian and Othorion again. She and their father had barely left Blackwell since Rei Hypharius passed away, and she would not be sad to be far from it at least for a few months.</p>
<p>Even so, she feared meeting Lieranym again. She feared he would treat her with formality but no warmth. She feared he would stand on ceremony.</p>
<p>The coach waited for Jaonos and Ynaselle in the drive. Ynaselle was relieved to see it had been cleared of the mourning decorations. Instead, it was festooned in the blue and black livery of the Thonnesprey family. Six black stags, melanistic deer specifically bred by the Thonnespreys, pawed the ground as they waited. The blue leather of the harnesses and breaching contrasted pleasingly against their dark pelts. The carriage created an elegant picture as it stood between two cherry trees, adorned in pink blossoms.</p>
<p>A footman opened the carriage door for Jaonos and Ynaselle, and Jaonos handed her in first. Rex Thonnesprey already sat inside, wrapped in a thick blanket. He looked pale and wan, even under the deep mourning veil. The purple bruises under his eyes stood out against his ashen skin. Physic Prognes sat across from Rex Thonnesprey, his healing case beside him. He bowed his head respectfully as Ynaselle stepped into the carriage.</p>
<p>Ynaselle sat beside her father. He smiled weakly, and the skin around his eyes and mouth creased as easily as if it had become paper. He stretched a thin hand from beneath the blanket, the black gloves failing to conceal the skeletal fingers within. He touched the ear cuff lightly with his fingertips.</p>
<p>“Your mother’s,” he said hoarsely. “She always wore these when we traveled.”</p>
<p>“I thought it would be appropriate,” Ynaselle replied. She watched him, fearing she had made the wrong decision. It hurt her heart how frail her father had become.</p>
<p>“They look lovely on you,” Rex Thonnesprey said, then turned his face to the window.</p>
<p>As the coach pulled away, Ynaselle turned to watch Black Well tower over them. The Black Well manor stood atop a hill overlooking the town of Thonnesprey and its surrounding lands. It was an ancient building, supported by dark stone columns and glass walls. Standing before it all was the black well around which the whole castle had been built. The well itself was squat and ugly, but it was surrounded by slim arches and canopied by a silver spire, which pointed to the pole star.</p>
<p>Ynaselle watched Black Well and the central silver spire shrink away as the carriage carried them to Heliohart. Storm clouds gathered over the hill; they seemed to center over the silver spire. As Ynaselle watched, the clouds opened, veiling her home in a gray rain, as if Black Well itself were in mourning.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Vithian</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The three Thonnesprey brothers watched as their sister was led from her dais into the great hall by the Bryravn heir. She would dance with each of her suitors, ordered by peerage. Others took their partners to the floor, surrounding Ynaselle and Bryravn as the band set the tempo. Ynaselle kept her expression placid and tranquil, but her brothers could see the excitement that glowed in her.</p><p>Vithian finally broke the silence amongst them by saying, “Who do you think it will be?”</p><p>“Do you think she will marry one of them?” Othorion asked.</p><p>“Of course,” Jaonos said, gruffly, turning his attention to the now empty glass in his hand. “She has to marry, and Mother has gathered all these suitable mates just for her.</p><p>“She doesn’t have to marry,” Othorion said with uncharacteristic harshness.</p><p>“I think she wants to,” Vithian said, “so she must pick from this lot.”</p><p>“And Mother and Father want her to marry.” Jaonos scoffed. “Everyone’s happy.” He snapped his fingers and motioned to a server to pour him more wine.</p><p>“What were you drinking, master?” the server asked.</p><p>“I don’t care.” Jaonos held out his glass to the server, who filled it and made himself scarce.</p><p>“Speaking of what Mother and Father want,” Vithian began but Jaonos silenced him with a sour glare.</p><p>“Don’t ruin my evening, Vithian. This is Yna’s ball, not mine.”</p><p>“But think of it,” Vithian persisted, “your younger sibling marrying before you, the eldest.”</p><p>“She’ll be marrying before you, too,” Jaonos replied, “and you’re second eldest.”</p><p>“I know,” Vithian said, looking morosely at his postulant robes.</p><p>“Must we carry on like this? Do any of us really need to be so concerned about marrying?” Othorion asked.</p><p>“Jaonos does,” Vithian said.</p><p>Jaonos glared at Vithian again. “Vithian, you busybody.” He stood and rifled through his pockets until he pulled out his tobacco box. “If anyone needs me, I intend to disappear.”</p><p>“Jaonos, don’t run off,” Vithian said.</p><p>Jaonos took one long swallow from his glass before slamming it down, overturning it and spilling wine across the table.</p><p>Vithian stood to dodge the wine. “Jaonos, where are you going?” he asked, but the eldest Thonnesprey son disappeared into the crowded hall.</p><p>Othorion smoothed an eyebrow with his ring finger as he had done ever since childhood when he was anxious. “Why do you push, Vithian?” he asked.</p><p>“What? He knows I have the truth of it.”</p><p>“I’m not saying you’re wrong, but you know you’ll just make him angry.”</p><p>“So, he may just sulk off like a spoiled child?” Vithian sat again and brushed imaginary dirt from his robes. “He ought to stop being so selfish. It’s best for everyone if he just grew up and married. <em> You </em> of all people should agree with that.”</p><p>As soon as he said it, he knew he had gone too far. “Othorion, I didn’t mean-”</p><p>“Vithian,” Othorion said before Vithian could continue, “just because you have a thought doesn’t mean you need to stay it out loud.”</p><p>“I’m <em> for </em> you in this, Othorion. You know I’m right. Jaonos needs-”</p><p>“<em>You </em> need to let go of always being right. No one will thank you for it,” Othorion replied. He stood, met Vithian’s gaze, then turned to disappear into the crowd as well.</p><p>Vithian watched him walk away. He sat back against his chair, now alone, nursing his wine and his ego. He was right, he reminded himself, and if he could just get them to understand, they would see that as well. So, he sat alone as the music shifted to a new song. He watched his old friends and acquaintances, practically strangers now that he had entered postulancy, offer him a polite nod before moving on or avoiding eye contact with him entirely.</p><p>“All alone, Thonnesprey? I would have thought you’d be dancing.”</p><p>Vithian looked up to see the familiar face of Perillorin Darees Ephion. She wore her gold hair pulled back in a tight braid and only a simple bronze band on her brow, but no amount of severity could hide the lively flush of her cheeks or sparkle in her eyes. There had been a flirtation between them once, but in the end, they liked each other better as friends than lovers.</p><p>“I would have thought the same of you.” He glanced over her and was surprised she wasn’t wearing the red uniform of the cavalry. Instead, she wore black and ruddy orange, divided right down the center. Then he recalled that she should have left for the cavalry a month before. “What’s this? I thought you were supposed to have left for the Red Downs already.”</p><p>“I was,” Perillorin said, deflating immediately. She had never been able to disguise her feelings. She took a seat and a glass. “I was, but plans changed.”</p><p>Vithian tilted his head, trying to place the livery she was wearing. It wasn’t Perillorin. He couldn’t think of a family with black and orange, or any military unit, either. He pursed his lips thoughtfully and touched her sleeve. She frowned at him and pulled away, causing the light to catch the fabric. It was dark green, not black.</p><p>“Fernigrys? You’re going to the Court of Ice and Stone?”</p><p>“Yes,” Perillorin said. “Next month.”</p><p>“The marches?”</p><p>Perillorin sighed and sipped her wine.</p><p>“Did you ask for the transfer?”</p><p>“No. Titan Fernigrys requested I join her personal guard.”</p><p>“<em>Titan </em>Fernigrys? Personal guard?” Vithian let out a surprised laugh. “I should congratulate you, to be so singled out.”</p><p>“I’m honored, don’t misunderstand,” Perillorin said. “I was looking forward to the cavalry, though.”</p><p>Vithian offered her a sympathetic expression and patted her hand. She took his hand and squeezed it. They had bonded over their shared love of riding. In the cavalry, she would have had every opportunity to ride, and she would have been one of the best. One does not refuse a titan’s particular request, though, so that was that.</p><p>“What of you?” Perillorin asked, her bright eyes as earnest as ever. “When do you take vows? Soon, isn’t it?”</p><p>“Braccura, next year.”</p><p>“Plenty of time. Do you know where you’ll go?”</p><p>“No inkling. Probably abroad. All the way the way to the tundra. Or perhaps, they’ll let me roast in the desert.”</p><p>Perillorin laughed and squeezed Vithian’s hand again. “Doomsayer. Pity you couldn’t have joined up with me. You might have actually gotten to go into the cavalry.”</p><p>“Instead, I’m a pigeon. I suppose none of us get what we want.”</p><p>“That’s not the Thonnesprey I know,” Perillorin said. She turned to examine Vithian’s face and furrowed her brow. “What’s gotten you so bothered?”</p><p>Vithian made a vague gesture at the room, then at the robes he wore. “I’m a ghost. In this house. Where I was born. Everyone treats me like a stranger.” It was only half an exaggeration. Once he took the vows to become a priest, he would renounce his name. No longer Thonnesprey Hypharius Vence, he would take the name of whatever constellation he served under. Then, he really would be a stranger.</p><p>It was Perillorin’s turn to give Vithian a sympathetic expression. “My brother said it was easier once he took his orders,” she said. “He said he felt less out of place once he really was a stranger.”</p><p>Elven tradition demanded that the second children of nobility take orders in the church, but once they had, they would be moved to a different Court. Few ever spent much time in their birth Court. They never returned to live there again. Tradition stated that this was done to strengthen the bonds between Courts and build a single religious character in the Empire. Vithian suspected it was to prevent any accumulation of power should families assert control over the Church through their children. Either way, once he took vows, he would never see the Court of the Stag again.</p><p>Vithian sighed and finished his wine. </p><p>“Don’t be so depressed,” Perillorin told him. “We all have our duties.”</p><p>***</p><p>Vithian smoothed the front of his gray postulant robes and carefully arranged the celestial chains - simple gold chains from which hung the thirteen Sacred Constellations - to hang flat from his waist. He shouldn’t still be in postulant robes, but his mother’s unexpected death had stalled his education and deferred his vows. With his father’s ill health, he had been given permission by his elders to spend one final month in the family’s house in Heliohart.</p><p>When he had reached the age of majority, his parents had presented him to the Premier of Heliohart, as was proper for noble families to do. He had been taken to the Sequester, and he hadn’t seen any of his family again until Ynaselle’s ball. Heliohart was the capital of the Court of the Stag and, naturally, its seat. Vithian had made his home at the college connected to the Basilica of Braccura ever since his first round of vows as an initiate. </p><p>This month with his family would be the last time he saw them, Vithian realized, until he was ordained. Then, he may never see them again.</p><p>Vithian pushed that from his mind as he grabbed his pack and a light, gray cloak. He left his small room and hurried down the narrow halls and stairs to the foyer, hoping to leave without being stopped.</p><p>“Postulant Vithian,” a familiar and entirely unwelcome voice called to his back, just as the main doors came into view.</p><p>Vithian turned to see Elder Aymer leaving her office. She closed the door behind her and locked it with the same fastidious and economic care she gave to everything. Vithian placed his case on the floor, folding his cloak over it, then touched his forehead. “Elder Aymer, may the stars guide you,” he said, but he thought, <em> I am still Thonnesprey until I take my orders </em>.</p><p>“May they guide <em> you </em>, Postulant,” Elder Aymer replied. She folded her hands into the large sleeves of her robes. She looked him up and down, searching for anything she could correct him for. She said, “You are going to the Thonnesprey home now.”</p><p><em> My home </em>. “Yes, Elder.”</p><p>“Remember, your vows follow you there as well.”</p><p>“Yes, Elder.”</p><p>“Do not be tempted to excess,” she warned. “You may have fish, sparingly, but no flesh. And I should advise you to avoid intoxicants of all kinds, though clear liquor is permissible, so long as you don’t get drunk. And no gambling under any circumstances.”</p><p>Vithian suppressed a sigh. “I will not eat meat or drink, but I do not gamble,” he said. Thonnespreys had been raising melanistic deer for generations, for personal use and for sale to other noble families and military officers. Vithian had spent much of his childhood in the stables and in the saddle. Elder Aymer had mistaken this love of the deer for love of gambling on races, and Vithian had yet to convince her otherwise.</p><p>“Hmm.” Elder Aymer’s sharp features and earth-colored eyes disclosed nothing. She motioned for Vithian to pick up his things. When he had, she began to walk him to the door. “I understand your father and siblings will be there,” she said, her tone ever so slightly softened.</p><p>“My father and two of my siblings will arrive today.” He glanced at a clock, standing watch over the hall. “Within the hour. My youngest brother will arrive next week.”</p><p>“The annymos. Taking his eotha exams, then?”</p><p>“Yes, Elder.”</p><p>“Shall you be able to prepare for <em> your </em>exams?”</p><p>“Of course, Elder.” Vithian felt hot anger rising up in his neck and his tone must have shown it, for he earned a rebukeful glance from the elder.</p><p>“Have a care that you do not lose the progress you have made while you are in the Thonnesprey house. The young Thonnesprey is said to be a waste.”</p><p>“Gossip,” Vithian said, just barely keeping from snapping, “he is as dutiful an elf-”</p><p>“Fonn Thonnesprey is a dutiful elf. She is an exemplar of how the child of a noble family ought to behave. As is the Annymos Thonnesprey. But Lore Thonnesprey indulges his own pleasures and ignores his duties. He is an idler and shirker.”</p><p>Vithian was so stunned by Elder Aymer’s words that he stopped in his tracks. He stared at her for a few breaths, but Elder Aymer merely returned his gaze implacably.</p><p>“You seem to know a great deal about my family,” he said at last.</p><p>“It is my responsibility to turn you into a devout and respectable priest. I like to know what I’m up against.”</p><p>Vithian scoffed, more from surprise than derision. They stood before the door now. Elder Aymer had walked him all the way to the entrance of the Sequester. She shook her head, then took his cloak and wrapped it about his shoulders. “You have the makings of a good priest, despite all your efforts to the contrary.”</p><p>Vithian touched the cloak’s clasp at his neck, looking down into his elder’s eyes. “I should have hoped you had more faith in me.”</p><p>“I have as much faith as you have earned,” Elder Aymer said. A cold rush of air blew past them as she pushed open the doors for him, causing their robes to flutter about them. “But, I intend to have you out of my Sequester after the Feast of Braccura.”</p><p>Vithian descended the stairs from the entrance, relieved to be free of the Sequester’s oppressive atmosphere, at least for a time. When he reached the street level, Elder Aymer called to him again. Reluctantly, he turned back, but did not climb the stairs.</p><p>“Enjoy yourself,” Elder Aymer called.</p><p>Vithian smirked, touched his forehead, then hurried through the streets of Heliohart to the house the Thonnesprey family had kept in the city for centuries.</p><p>The streets of Heliohart were paved in yellow sandstone, and they were regularly swept and polished to keep them gleaming. At every corner, along every street, at every opportunity, trees - aspen, oak, rowan, pine, elm, chestnut, maple, and many more - were planted, turning Heliohart into a forest, a very ordered forest. The largest trees shaded an understudy tree or two, which in turn, sheltered shrubs and groundcover so that Heliohart was filled with thousands, perhaps millions, of mini-forests. It had been millennia since elves lived in forests, but when they moved to cities, they took the forests with them. It must make keeping the sandstone clean hell, Vithian thought, as he practically ran past the great houses of great families to his own.</p><p>Each family kept a decorative garden in front of their great houses, each unique. Vithian always found it reassuring to find the Thonnesprey garden unchanged. The garden was centered around a replica black well around which their house seat had been built. A willow spread its trailing branches over it, and flowers clustered around them, planted almost randomly to make it appear that they grew naturally. The snowdrops were being replaced by the daffodils and primrose as spring progressed. It could have been a wild meadow, perhaps what the first Thonnesprey had seen when they built the family seat around the black well.</p><p>Vithian touched the chains hooked to his waist and once more felt the creeping anxiety that this would be the last time he saw the Thonnesprey house. He wondered if he ever would see Black Well again. He waved a hand in front of his face and pushed the thought away, stepping through the low hedge and up to the front door.</p><p>He no longer had a key, so he had to wait awkwardly while a servant answered the door.</p><p>“Master Vence!” the housekeeper, Merringal, gasped as he opened the door. “Come in, come in. The Rex and your siblings haven’t arrived yet.”</p><p>Merringal stepped aside to let Vithian step in, then took his case and cloak. “I shall take your things to your room. Would you like any refreshments?”</p><p>“No, thank you,” Vithian said, smoothing his robes again. “I’ll wait until my father arrives.”</p><p>Merringal bowed and carried Vithian’s case upstairs. Vithian wondered if he would have his old room or the guest room. He almost called up the stairs to ask, but decided it would be less embarrassing to find out later. Instead, he stepped into the sitting room.</p><p>The front sitting room was richly decorated in black, gold, and ivory. Black and gold brocade upholstered furniture were arrayed around a large, white marble fireplace, black and gold velvet curtains framed the large windows, while black and gold Phrassene vases, filled with fragrant white lilies, lined the wall at regular intervals. An ebony mantle held statuary and baubles made of ivory, and thickly-piled black and gold rugs lay across alabaster floors. It was a shocking change from the ascetic environment he had lived in at the Sequester.</p><p>Vithian circled the room, examining the artwork that had once been familiar to him and now felt alien. He ran a finger over the glass dome that protected a rose of carved ivory. A delicate gold clock chimed the hour. Portraits of his mother and father flanked the fireplace in heavy gold frames. They were honest portraits, as Vithian recalled, as if Rex Thonnesprey and Rei Hypharius stood before him. When Jaonos married, they would be replaced with portraits of him and his fae. If he ever married.</p><p>He came to a cabinet of ebony wood and gold trim, topped by a marble slab. A golden tray sat atop it, carrying decanters filled with sweet liquors. The cabinet was carved into the shape of a leaping fish, with hidden seams and hinges. The late Rei Hypharius had purchased it from an importer who swore that dwarfs had mined thirteen separate slabs of marble before the importer was satisfied. Vithian doubted the importer had ever seen a dwarf, but the cabinet was cleverly made. Vithian tapped the left eye of the fish and the door swung open smoothly to reveal decanters of far rarer liquors. He had always wanted to taste them. He may not get another chance.</p><p>Vithian knelt in front of the cabinet and took each decanter to sniff the liquor within. Liquor made from almonds, roses, oranges, or flavored with saffron or anise. Then one with no scent - a human liquor his father had developed a taste for some years before: vodka.</p><p>Elder Aymer had said clear liquors were acceptable. Vithian poured himself a small glass. It was sharp, and when Vithian drank it, it was hot when it hit the back of his throat, burning all the way back to his pointed ears. He coughed and scrambled for water.</p><p>Vithian nearly dropped his glass when the front door opened. He could hear Merringal greet his family in the foyer. Fumbling, Vithian shoved the glass back into the cabinet. He had barely stood when Ynaselle threw her arms around his neck and pulled him into a tight hug and kissed him.</p><p>“Oh, Vithian, I’ve missed you so!” she declared.</p><p>Jaonos kissed him next, and in the next moment, they were all talking at once.</p><p>“You look like a ghost in those robes,” Jaonos said. “How very drab!”</p><p>Ynaselle gasped. “Hold your tongue, Jaonos.” She turned back to Vithian. “You look more distinguished than you ever have. You used to dress like a fop!”</p><p>“I dressed like Jaonos,” Vithian said, eying the bright robes Jaonos wore. “Mostly.”</p><p>“He dresses like a fop.”</p><p>Jaonos smirked. “I am a fop.”</p><p>They all laughed. They held each other, talking of how much they had changed and how much they had stayed the same.</p><p>“Vithian,” Rex Thonnesprey said softly, silencing all his children at once.</p><p>Privarron stood by the portal into the sitting room, leaning wearily on a cane carved into the shape of a leaping deer. Vithian pulled away from his siblings and went to his father. He kissed Privarron, offering his arm for the Rex to lean on.</p><p>“You look well, my son,” Privarron said, holding him firmly by the shoulder. “I am glad to see you are taking your studies seriously. And I’m glad to have you three together at last. We are only missing Othorion.”</p><p>“I’ve had a message,” Vithian said, “from Othorion, on the farspeak. He’ll be here next week. They’re giving him leave to study for his exams.”</p><p>“Wonderful,” Privarron said as Vithian led him to a high-backed chair by the fireplace. </p><p>Only then did he notice Physic Prognes at the door. “May the stars guide you.” Vithian crossed the room and kissed Prognes on the cheek, as he had been a friend of the family for years. “It’s good to see you. Will you stay with us?”</p><p>“No, for now, no,” Physic Prognes said, kissing Vithian on the cheek in turn.</p><p>“What, Myrdin? You’re welcome to,” Jaonos said.</p><p>“I shall stay at the club for now. I have some business to attend to, but I will check on the Rex every day.”</p><p>Privarron smiled wanly and nodded his approval.</p><p>“When you’re settled, come back and have dinner with us,” Ynaselle said.</p><p>“You are very kind, Fonn,” Prognes said, bowing his adieu.</p><p>Jaonos left to see Physic Prognes out, while Vithian joined Ynaselle on the chaise by their father.</p><p>“You shall take your oath this summer?” Privarron asked as Luthara, the parlor maid, brought tea and cakes for the family.</p><p>“Yes, father. On the Feast of Braccura.”</p><p>“Excellent. I know you will enter the profession gracefully.”</p><p>Leaving the Thonnesprey name behind, Vithian thought.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Jaonos</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bright, glittering stars peppered the violet sky. The city of Thonnesprey threw a faint glowing dome onto the dark hills that surrounded it. The city was not particularly special, save that it was familiar. Jaonos could pick out the main streets from where he stood far above on the family estate by the flickering lamps that lined them. He picked out the path to the smoke shop that sold his favorite blend, the tea shop Ynaselle liked to stop at after visiting the cathedral, and The Black Stag, the pub where Jaonos had been a regular. There they treated him like any other elf instead of their future Rex. He felt comfortable walking the streets of Thonnesprey, more so than Black Well sometimes. Jaonos’ gaze was drawn along the path he always took to the building where Myrdin lived. </p>
<p>Jaonos lit a cigarette as he began a stroll from Black Well where it stood high in the hills into town.</p>
<p>By the time he reached Thonnesprey, Jaonos realized he was very much not dressed for the walk. He had not thought to change out of his dancing clothes when he had stalked out of the great hall. His robes were soaked in sweat, the hem would probably never be clean again, and his shoes were ruined. Jaonos had passed several elves as he walked. Those that knew him were unfazed. Those that didn’t know him greeted him deferentially, but he could see they were disconcerted. He ought to be at the ball, dressed as he was, not trudging through the streets of Thonnesprey, but they could tolerate his eccentricity as the Thonnesprey heir. Jaonos wondered if they would tolerate it as the Rex.</p>
<p>He made his way to Myrdin’s apartments through a courtyard of imported gingko trees. Jaonos found Myrdin’s apartments pleasant. The garden was simple but private and comfortable, and the tall hedge hid it and the front door from view from the street. Jaonos would miss it, for Myrdin had already told him he would be moving closer to the Black Well manor, now that he was the Rex’s the personal physic. Jaonos gazed a moment at a bench that overlooked a small reflection pond and sighed. He had enjoyed that seat far more than any spot in Black Well’s extensive gardens.</p>
<p>He didn’t bother knocking before entering the building. He nodded to the landlady, a small, wizened woman who must have been old enough to remember when the humans were still living in caves, before climbing the stairs to Myrdin’s room.</p>
<p>When Myrdin opened the door, he smiled at Jaonos and shook his head. “Well, you lasted longer than I thought.”</p>
<p>“Be proud of me, then,” Jaonos said as he stepped into the small sitting room and sprawled on the couch. “I didn’t disturb you, did I?”</p>
<p>“Hmm.” Myrdin locked the door. “You kept me up late.”</p>
<p>“You were waiting?”</p>
<p>“I knew you would come.” Myrdin poured two glasses of pear brandy. He gave one to Jaonos. “How is the ball going?”   </p>
<p>“Well,” Jaonos replied. He sipped the brandy and looked to the empty fireplace. It was simple, built of a pale blue-gray stone and unornamented. A single red poppy in a crystal vase sat atop the mantle. The vase would cast rainbows in the sunlight, and with a fire, it would glitter like gold. It was too warm to light a fire, but for some reason, Jaonos thought he’d be comforted by one. “Perfectly, in fact.”  </p>
<p>“That is good to know. Is Fonn Thonnesprey enjoying herself?”  </p>
<p>Jaonos made a face at Myrdin and turned away irritably. “You can call her Ynaselle.”    </p>
<p>“You know I can’t,” Myrdin replied.   </p>
<p>He did, but he hated it. Jaonos kicked off his shoes, then tossed the gold band he wore on his brow onto a chair.  </p>
<p>“I’ll have to call you a cab back,” Myrdin said, chuckling. </p>
<p>Jaonos snorted. “I’ll walk back.” They both knew he wouldn’t. Jaonos’s peevishness was making him contrary.</p>
<p>Myrdin ignored Jaonos’s childishness; he never let Jaonos’s mood swings disrupt his own placidity. “I am impressed at how long you lasted. Surely, the Rex and Rei will be pleased with that. What finally drove you to leave?”   </p>
<p>“My brother,” Jaonos replied, making another face. “Being himself.”   </p>
<p>“Which brother?”   </p>
<p>“Who do you think? Othorion is more concerned about manners and etiquette than even you are.”</p>
<p>“Some of us are well-bred,” Myrdin said into his cup, then sipped his brandy.</p>
<p>“Is that why you care for me? My breeding?”</p>
<p>Myrdin sat beside him, shaking his head. “If I were, I think I would be disappointed by now.”</p>
<p>Myrdin had never given Jaonos a reason for loving him, though Jaonos himself had a hard time expressing what he loved about Myrdin, too. Something about Myrdin’s patience and tranquility always drew Jaonos to him. Myrdin was like a still lake, and Jaonos felt drawn to lay beside him. </p>
<p>Every once in a while, Jaonos wanted to stir the surface. Not just send gentle ripples across the surface, but see it truly wild and thrashing. He wanted the lake to break its banks, to flood. There was something beneath Myrdin’s cool exterior that only Jaonos could touch, and he wanted to touch it.</p>
<p>“You’re cruel to me.”</p>
<p>“Am I?” Myrdin asked. Myrdin’s eyes glittered in the low lamp light, and Jaonos could just see that something deep beneath the lake’s surface. It only ever came out when they were together.</p>
<p>“Dreadfully.” Jaonos sniffed dramatically. “I am cursed, so that all whom I love will be cruel to me.”</p>
<p>“If you think I’m so cruel, why not go back to the manor?”</p>
<p>Jaonos frowned again, realizing that Myrdin would not indulge his self-pity tonight. “Even worse,” he said.</p>
<p>“I am surprised, though. You had promised Ynaselle you would stay, and I have never known you to disappoint your sister. I can see that it’s bothering you.”</p>
<p>“Vithian wouldn’t shut up about getting married,” Jaonos replied, snapping more than he meant. He regretted it, as he noticed Myrdin’s ever calm expression shiver before the stillness returned.</p>
<p>“He is right,” Myrdin said. “It is your responsibility-”</p>
<p>“So, I left. I’m not looking for suitors,” Jaonos cut in. </p>
<p>Vithian was right. Myrdin was right, too. He knew he had to marry, at some point. His heart wanted to marry Myrdin, but who was Prognes Lyssin Vence? The educated second child of a peasant. Jaonos did not need to ask his father to know his thoughts. The physic was no one, not to the eldest child and heir of Rex Thonnesprey, one of the most powerful elves in the Court of the Stag. Lore Thonnesprey had gained a reputation, much to Rex Thonnesprey’s shame. He was known as a flirt, a gambler, a fop, and a wastrel. He was known to mix with lower classes without regard to peerage or duty, and so long as he was the heir, he had the liberty to do so. He would not be the first lore to spend his adolescence in pubs, gambling dens, and whore houses. </p>
<p>But to marry one of the whores?</p>
<p>If he didn’t marry Myrdin, if he married someone from the right family, he knew he would never see Myrdin again.</p>
<p>“What will you do, Jaonos?” Myrdin asked.</p>
<p>“Don’t push me, Myrdin. Not tonight. Not you, too.”</p>
<p>“You’re nearly two hundred, Jaonos. If Fonn Thonnesprey marries before you-”</p>
<p>Fury jolted Jaonos to his feet. He threw his hands in the air, nearly knocking over their glasses. “To all the seven hells with Ynaselle!” he shouted. “What does it matter? So what if she marries before me? What does it matter to you?”</p>
<p>Myrdin was unfazed by Jaonos’s outburst. This was an old fight. “It matters, because I want to marry you.”</p>
<p>“And why would you want to do that?” Jaonos knew it was stupid as soon as he said it, but he was angry that everyone had to have opinions about what he ought and ought not to do.</p>
<p>Myrdin actually laughed. He covered his mouth with his hands, bent over, and laughed. Jaonos stood, dumbfounded, uncertain of himself. So he waited for Myrdin to stop, and when he did, Myrdin’s eyes glittered again, and Jaonos could see, almost at the surface, that thing Myrdin kept buried so deep.</p>
<p>“You idiot,” Myrdin said. He stood, held Jaonos’s face in his hands, and kissed him. “Because you need me. You need me to help keep your temper in check and to help curb your more rash impulses. You need me to be your voice of reason.</p>
<p>“And I need you. Because I feel more like myself when I am with you than when I am anywhere else.”</p>
<p>The anger washed away in the face of that cool, still lake that was Myrdin. Jaonos pressed his forehead against Myrdin’s and held him. “I do need you.”</p>
<p>Myrdin sighed, and Jaonos could hear at the very edge the frustration in it. “Then that’s enough for now. Sit down again.”</p>
<p>They sat in silence, Jaonos’s outburst brushed away, listening to the sound of the night through the open window. A nightingale’s song floated up from the garden outside. An owl called from further away, perhaps from high above as it hunted for field mice. A burst of laughter exploded from the street below as late-night drinkers made their way home. </p>
<p>Waves of regret and shame washed over Jaonos. He leaned his head against Myrdin’s shoulder and was relieved when Myrdin didn’t push him away. He breathed in Myrdin’s scent - violets and just a bit of sanitizer - and found some comfort.</p>
<p>“Don’t send me back,” Jaonos whispered.   </p>
<p>Myrdin sighed, letting go any tension he had held in him, and caressed Jaonos’s cheek with gentle fingers. Jaonos always wondered how Myrdin’s hands were so soft when he washed them so much in his work. “Of course not, my love,” Myrdin said in a low voice. “You may stay as long as you like.” </p>
<p>Distantly, Jaonos could make a few phrases a bard sang from The Black Stag. <em> No Choice At All </em>. It had a lively melody, and a harp jingled merrily in accompaniment. He rarely listened to the actual lyrics of the song, for they were mournful, in tension with the tune. He refused to listen to them now. He didn’t notice he was humming along until Myrdin chuckled.</p>
<p>“Lovely voice on that bard,” Jaonos said, forgetting the uneasiness of just a moment before. “Do you know who it is?”</p>
<p>“Hmm, Jyllessor, I think. She usually sings at the Riverside.”  </p>
<p>“Ah, that’s why I didn’t recognize her. Should I invite her to Black Well, do you think?”   </p>
<p>Myrdin shrugged, taking Jaonos’s hand. “Would a common pub swallow be welcome in Black Well?” </p>
<p>“I think so. Or perhaps I belong in a pub more than in Black Well.”</p>
<p>“Don’t be silly. You’re a Thonnesprey, through and through.”  </p>
<p>Jaonos snorted. “You should tell that to my father.”  </p>
<p>Myrdin squeezed his hand, but he kept his face turned from Jaonos. “He’s hard on you because he has such great hopes for you.”   </p>
<p>Jaonos scoffed again and turned his face back to the window, leaning his chin against his free  hand as he listened. A cool breeze blew in, bringing with it the scent of cooking oil and sweet pastries. He took a deep breath. “What’s that?”   </p>
<p>“Oh, that’s some clever vendor,” Myrdin said. “He sells pastries and fried potatoes to the pub-goers on their way home.”   </p>
<p>“Do you think he has clamshells?” Jaonos asked. Clamshells were a pastry, folded to look like a clam and filled with some sweet cream or jams. They were common in the coastal cities, and he had developed quite a taste for them when he had last visited Taryph. The scent of cooking oil and pastries and snips of pub song were rare in Black Well, and the manor was all the more dull for it. He had a sudden urge to go back to Taryph. He had felt free there.   </p>
<p>He didn’t hear Myrdin’s answer, and it didn’t matter. He turned to Myrdin and grinned. “Let’s just run away instead.”   </p>
<p>“What?” Myrdin asked. He chuckled a confused laugh. “Run away? To where?”   </p>
<p>Jaonos shrugged. “Who knows? Who cares? Somewhere far away. Maybe one of the free cities.”   </p>
<p>“And what shall we do there?” </p>
<p>“I don’t know. Live?” </p>
<p>“Well, I can,” Myrdin said, pretending to think about it, a long finger tapping against his pointed chin. “A physic is welcome everywhere. But, what in the world will you do?” </p>
<p>“What shall<em> I </em>do?” </p>
<p>“You’ve never worked a day in your life, how will you survive if you can’t work?” </p>
<p>“I shall have you to care for me,” Jaonos teased and Myrdin laughed more genuinely.</p>
<p>“We shall keep a small house,” Jaonos went on. “And a small garden, and we shall have dinners every night and singers and harpists to sing us to sleep.”   </p>
<p>Myrdin shook his head, but smiled despite himself. “Oh, and shall we be great patrons of the arts?”   </p>
<p>Jaonos sniffed. “Philosophers, you and I. We shall patronize the arts, but, I mean, we can’t take too much upon ourselves.”  </p>
<p>“And what will you do with your day?”  </p>
<p>Jaonos considered, then snapped his fingers. “I’ll raise songbirds.”   </p>
<p>“Songbirds? What do you know about songbirds?”   </p>
<p>“I’ll learn!” Jaonos stood, overcome with the urge to go. He held his hand out to Myrdin. “Come, pack your things! We can be halfway to the closest port by morning, and on a ship by tomorrow night! Then we can put Thonnesprey and Heliohart behind us and never look back!”  </p>
<p>Myrdin’s surprised expression told him he had gotten carried away. He let his hand fall to his side.    </p>
<p>Myrdin took a deep breath, pausing a moment as if to arrange the words he was about to speak. “No matter where we go, so long as you live, you will always be Lore Thonnesprey,” he said. “No one will let you disappear.”   </p>
<p>Jaonos sat back down, trying not to be peevish again. His only escape from being the heir to the Thonnesprey title and duties would be death. “It was only a daydream,” he murmured. He looked into Myrdin’s pale green eyes, always so placid and so kind, and Jaonos felt his heart breaking. There were so many things to say, but they had already been said before, and saying them again would change nothing, but bring back the old hurts. So Jaonos said none of them and kissed Myrdin instead.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>“You don’t have to go,” Jaonos said as he closed the door behind him. </p>
<p>Myrdin stood by the replica black well that sat in front of the Thonnesprey house in Heliohart. He glanced into the street where elves walked to and fro, then stepped around to the side, where they might have some privacy.  </p>
<p>Jaonos glared at the public, resenting them for their presence, but followed Myrdin. He lowered his voice to say, “You don’t have to run away.”  </p>
<p>“I’m not running away. I do have some business to do.”  </p>
<p>“What business?”  </p>
<p>“My own business, Jaonos.”   </p>
<p>Jaonos frowned. Myrdin wasn’t normally so secretive. “But to stay at the club! You’ve practically lived at Black Well for the last year. Father is expecting you to stay.”   </p>
<p>“Jaonos, this is the first time you will have seen your brothers in years. It may be the last time you see Vence Thonnesprey before he takes orders. Don’t you think you ought to spend time with them?”   </p>
<p>“Vithian,” Jaonos hissed with venom. “You can call him Vithian.”   </p>
<p>“You know I can’t.”   </p>
<p>Jaonos could have screamed. Myrdin never lost his temper. He never raised his voice or spoke harshly. It infuriated Jaonos, because he never fought when Jaonos wanted to fight. He took a deep breath and forced himself to speak calmly. “So, take care of your business and come back. You don’t have to stay at the club.”   </p>
<p>Myrdin’s brow furrowed as if he were in pain. “Jaonos,” he said. He reached for Jaonos, but pulled his hand back just as his fingertips touched Jaonos’s cheek. “Don’t you think we should spend some time apart?”   </p>
<p>That struck Jaonos like a cold bucket of water. Myrdin let Jaonos have his way, it was how they had always been. Jaonos wouldn’t ask for too much, and Myrdin would indulge. Jaonos could see, though, that this time Myrdin was determined. “Do you want to spend time apart?”   </p>
<p>“You know I don’t.”</p>
<p>So many things that needed to be said, and they had all been said before, but they needed to be said again, no matter the pain they caused. Nothing had changed and nothing would change, and Jaonos and Myrdin were spending their lives waiting for a change that wasn’t coming. It was so much to ask of Myrdin to wait and wait and wait for a future that wouldn’t come. Myrdin had always indulged him. But, Jaonos was too cowardly to say the things that needed to be said.   </p>
<p>Myrdin, though, was not a coward. He touched the sleeve of Jaonos’ saffron robe. “Your decade-long reprieve is over, Jaonos. What will you do now?”   </p>
<p>Instead of a bucket of cold water, it was a bolt of cold steel right through Jaonos’s heart. It was true, Jaonos knew, but it hurt to hear. Whereas their mother’s death had frustrated Ynaselle, a huge wall in a blooming romance, it had been a relief for Jaonos. It would have been shockingly inappropriate for Jaonos to become engaged during the decade of mourning after his mother’s death. Now that mourning was over, he would be expected to find a spouse. A spouse from the right strata of society.     </p>
<p>Jaonos had never intentionally hidden his relationship with Myrdin. He suspected his father knew about it and tolerated it, for now at least, because it was harmless. It wasn’t a threat, at least in Privarron’s mind. And Jaonos could not bring himself to admit that his father was right. The people of Thonnesprey might accept eccentricity from the Lore, but if a Rex were to marry a common physic, the people would riot.   </p>
<p>There was more, there was worse.  </p>
<p>“You know the position I’m in,” Jaonos said. “You know what’s expected of me.”  </p>
<p>“You’re expected to marry. So what stops you?”  </p>
<p>Jaonos glared at Myrdin. He had said it so many times: he didn’t want to marry because he couldn’t marry Myrdin. Did he have to say it again?"</p>
<p>Jaonos dug into his pockets until he found a cigarette. Before he could light it, Myrdin took the cigarette away from him.</p>
<p>Jaonos would have shouted, but when he caught Myrdin’s gaze, he looked so serious and so sad that Jaonos felt guilty. He looked away.</p>
<p>“Is it really so impossible?"</p>
<p>Perhaps Jaonos could force the boundaries, perhaps. There was no scent of shame or misdeed in Myrdin’s family. He was a native of the realm of Thonnesprey, and plenty in the country liked the stories of commoners swept away by rich merchants and nobles. If, somehow, Privarron’s disapproval could be got passed - if Jaonos could find a priest who would marry them without his father’s permission - he doubted any premier or patrician would annul the marriage. And, he doubted Titan Heliohart, let alone the Emperor, would care to get involved, just because a rex married a commoner. There would be gossiping and giggling and rexes, sophrenes, and perhaps even primarchs looking down their noses and whispering behind their hands. The people of Thonnesprey and the discontent this might cause would have to be dealt with, but, Jaonos didn’t care about that, and neither did Myrdin.</p>
<p>“And what about Ynaselle?” Jaonos asked, bitterly. He hated to voice it. It struck a painful nerve deep within himself that he wished not to feel.</p>
<p>Jaonos would need children as the Rex, and Myrdin couldn’t give him children.</p>
<p>All of elven society was built around blood relation and birth order. Amongst the nobility, accidents of birth could create the unfortunate situation that the only appropriate union for a lore was with someone of the same sex. The humans avoided such a situation by subjugating their female children to their male children, and who knew what the secretive dwarves or savage orcs did, but such barbaric practices were beneath elves. They instead engaged in the practice of the chamfae. In a situation in which a union cannot produce children, either because the spouses are of the same sex or barren, a younger, unmarried sibling of the proper sex would be made into the chamfae. The chamfae would be responsible for producing children for the couple.</p>
<p>Should Jaonos and Myrdin marry, Ynaselle would be his chamfae, to bear the children that Jaonos and Myrdin otherwise couldn’t.</p>
<p>“If you went to a matchmaker, Ynaselle might still be required to be a chamfae,” Myrdin said, too coolly. </p>
<p>That was true. It didn’t make it any easier for Jaonos to choose his own happiness knowing what it would force his sister into.</p>
<p>For Jaonos, there was no good choice. He swallowed, bowing his head. “Don’t send me away, Myrdin.”</p>
<p>“Would it be I that sends you away?”</p>
<p>So many things to say, but Jaonos didn’t have the words. Or worse, he didn’t have the courage.</p>
<p>Myrdin took a deep breath, and the still lake’s surface froze over. “Visit me at the club, if you wish. Fonn Thonnesprey has invited me to dinner, and I wouldn’t wish to disappoint her.”</p>
<p>“Ynaselle,” Jaonos said, but he had no spirit.</p>
<p>They stood together. When Jaonos reached to take Myrdin’s hand, he pulled away.</p>
<p>“You’ll have to make a choice one day.”</p>
<p>Jaonos glared at Myrdin. Before he could think of anything to say, the door opened, and, as if summoned, Ynaselle called for Jaonos. He snatched the cigarette back from Myrdin and cursed. “Here, Yna,” he called, striking a match against the stone of the house.</p>
<p>Ynaselle came down the stairs and ducked into the little alcove with Jaonos and Myrdin. “Father is asking for you. You’re smoking that dreadful stuff?”</p>
<p>Jaonos frowned at Ynaselle, puffing purple smoke. Their father hated the smoke as much as Jaonos liked it.</p>
<p>“I wish you could convince him to stop,” Ynaselle said to Myrdin.</p>
<p>Myrdin chuckled, all ease and lightness again. “I can’t convince Lore Thonnesprey of anything. I don’t think anyone can once he’s made up his mind.”</p>
<p>He hadn’t made up his mind. That was the problem.</p>
<p>“You will return for dinner? You are always welcome at our table.”</p>
<p>“Of course, I will if you wish it.”</p>
<p>“I do,” Ynaselle said and kissed Myrdin on the cheek to bid him adieu.</p>
<p>Jaonos felt heat rise up in his cheeks as anger and guilt threatened to overcome him. He ground his teeth and snapped, “Do not force him to come if he doesn’t want to. Let him finish his business.”</p>
<p>Ynaselle cut Jaonos an admonishing glare, then turned away, embarrassed.</p>
<p>Myrdin frowned at Jaonos, a rebuke strong enough to silence him before he could start a fight with Ynaselle in public. </p>
<p>“I will be back this evening, Fonn Thonnesprey,” Myrdin said, and kissed Ynaselle on the cheek. “Good day.”</p>
<p>Myrdin bowed his head to Jaonos and Ynaselle, then left them in the garden.</p>
<p>Once Myrdin had disappeared down the street, Ynaselle turned to Jaonos, a look of frustration and confusion on her face. “What has gotten into you?”</p>
<p>Jaonos breathed out more smoke. “Go back inside, Yna. I’ll be in in a moment.”</p>
<p> </p>
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